Nathan, 57

Nathan, 57

Meet Nathan…

“I never saw them fight or argue. One day they just decided to be friends, which they stayed until Bob passed away, while I was in jail fighting murder charges.”

Nathan, 57

Incarcerated: 15 yrs

Housed: California Correctional Training Facility, Soledad

My mom Jamie was 16 and my father Abe was 31, neither were honest about their age. They both claimed to be in their 20’s when they met. Abe was a heroin addict and my mom’s parents were both alcoholics. They loved Abe. My grandma Vivian was beautiful with a great intellect, she was kind and thoughtful when sober. When drunk she could get really mean. She told me Abe was a good man, overly intelligent, he loved me and took care of me. My mom said he was the one to get up with me at night. Abe was from a wealthy Jewish family, I’ve never met because they disowned him over his heroin addiction. Abe fled the country to avoid prosecution when I was two. I have no memory of this, but have to imagine this must have been traumatic, as I never heard from him again. My mom has never been a drug user or drinker. She had to take care of her own parents and mothered them at an early age. She never had any judgment about others drinking or using drugs. My mom met Bob and he promised her he would never have any trouble with the law and he kept that promise. I never saw them fight or argue. One day they just decided to be friends, which they stayed until Bob passed away, while I was in jail fighting murder charges. Bob had a jewelry store, pet shop, pawn shop, antique shops, he ran a hotel and bar when he met my mom. He dabbled in stocks, cars, and real estate. He was successful at everything he did. Bob was not affectionate, but he always helped out and gave good advice. Bob was a good man, a better man than I have been. He tried hard to instill his good character traits in me. Though he did tease me when I was young, calling me Suzy because I was wimpy. I was a very scrawny and sensitive child. He was never unkind, he just grew up during a less sensitive time. To him calling me Suzy was innocent, maybe a little humorous, but with no ill intent. I can look back now and see where that might have been a contributing factor to my own distorted self body image, where my fall began. I believe I can trace back my fall to its very inception. One single thought that I believed to be true but wasn’t. All it took was for one doubt to sink in: “That I wasn’t good enough as God created me, that I was too skinny.” My mom met Tony when I was eight. Both Bob and Tony have been good fathers to me, Tony and my mom are still happily married. Tony is also a man of good character, honest and always ethical, but very proud and stubborn. I have a great love and respect for him. My mom went to catechism and her first communion until she was 10. At that age, she saw a car accident where a little girl’s head went through a windshield. She couldn’t understand how the God she was being taught about could let such a thing happen. She told her mom church was a waste of time. She never gave God or the Church another thought. My own belief in God was innate, it was as if I was born with it. My parents never tried to influence me in any way, however, I have been inquisitive. As a small child, I would contemplate the universe and infinity. I couldn’t comprehend infinity, so I would have to imagine what was at the end of the universe, there had to be something. I would imagine a wall. But then if there was a wall, there had to be something on the other side of the wall. So, I not only couldn’t comprehend infinity, I couldn’t comprehend not infinity. I thought, if this is the case then I had to believe I was foreign, and limited in my ability to comprehend. I would try to imagine what the world would be like if I no longer existed in it, I tried to imagine my non-existence. My conclusion was it didn’t matter. I knew my mom didn’t believe in God, so every chance I got to talk to a priest, a Christian, or a Catholic; I would always ask the same question: what happens to someone who doesn’t believe in God? The same answer always comes back; they go to eternal hell. I would always answer back; “but what if they are a good person?” I would get the same response; I’m sorry, I wish everyone could go to heaven, but non-believers can’t. None of this changed my belief in God, and I am grateful that God is not how man would make him out to be; because if that was the case, we would all be in real trouble. What it did do, is give me an unhealthy disdain for religion, especially the way Catholicism and Christianity were taught. At 8, I had a friend Bobby, who invited me on a one-week camping trip. Late the night before we were to leave, his mom dropped off a list of things like games and cards that couldn’t bring. My Mom thought it was odd and told me that she didn’t think I should go. I was packing my magic tricks and things that I would not be able to bring. She said she had a bad feeling about this and I really shouldn’t go. I whined and cried telling her Bobby and I have all these great plans. She gave in, thinking how bad it could be. She said if I had any concerns to call her and she’d come pick me up immediately. When I arrived, I found out it was a Christian camp. Which was deliberately withheld from me, my mom, and possibly Bobby by his family. I was deceived intentionally. I refused to cooperate in their games and demanded to be able to call my mom to pick me up. For a whole week, they never let me use the phone. I was basically kidnapped under false pretenses, and held against my will. When I was brought back home, my mom said I must have had a good time because I never called her.  I said, no I didn’t, everyone including Bobby had to give their lives over to God and I refused, because I thought it was stupid, and I’m never speaking to Bobby again. Can you imagine if this was done to a child today? Don’t get me wrong, I am a follower of the teachings of Jesus. I love Him as an elder brother.  My mom and Tony always do right by others, not because of any religion,  it is the right way to be, they are just really good human beings. Much better than I have been. Neither believe in or give thought to God or an afterlife or think there is any kind of reward for being selfless. It is just the way they are. My mom believes when we die that is it, we no longer exist. I cannot even comprehend that thought. My mom’s Christian friends tell her that she is a better Christian than most Christians they know. She has always had a great wisdom about her, much greater than could be acquired in this lifetime alone. She is always so busy, she barely has time to do the things she would like to do. She belongs to a women’s club and they do charity work for the homeless, cancer and heart patients, and work with other charities that bring aid to foreign countries. She is always donating her time. They give scholarships away for kids to go to college. Something she never had the opportunity to do herself. She is just such a beautiful human being.

Michael, 40

Michael, 40

Meet Michael…

“What I do know and am sure of, is that night despite being discarded by family, left to fend for ourselves, scared, uncertain of our future, and up against the world. We banded together, faced whatever came our way, and prevailed as a family.”

Michael, 40

Incarcerated: 12 years

I’ve never felt so afraid, rejected, or abandoned in my life. The things I’ve endured no one, let alone a child, should have to experience. What makes matters worse is that my younger sister Connie, and little brother Josh, are also with me. We were in Sacramento, California, starving in an abandoned duplex our mother was renting before her arrest. The electricity was just shut off, there was no food in the refrigerator, and we were camped out in our mother’s room. The three of us were cold, hungry, and confused. What was I going to do? How were we going to survive? My 14 year old brain was overloaded with questions that I didn’t have answers for. My mother has been incarcerated for a few months now and our aunt, who was supposed to be caring for us, had abandoned us a couple weeks earlier. I was so hurt and angry at her. My other two siblings and their father had driven away leaving us all alone on the porch. I’m brought out of my thoughts by brother Josh’s voice, “I’m hungry, what are we going to eat?” Before I can answer, my sister Connie says, “Mike, I know where some money is. Remember when I dropped a dollar in one of the bedposts?” As she says this, she jumps up and heads to the room we shared before our lives were turned upside down. The three of us went to work on that white headboard with red trim as if we were a demolition crew. With the help of a wire hanger and some scissors we retrieved that dollar bill as it was a long last treasure. Along with some loose change we scraped up from all over the house, we were able to buy something to eat for the night. I’m not sure exactly what we bought from the store other than a bag of potato chips. What I do know and am sure of, is that night despite being discarded by family, left to fend for ourselves, scared, uncertain of our future, and up against the world. We banded together, faced whatever came our way, and prevailed as a family. I’ll never forget that night and 26 years later, myself, Connie, and Josh continue to beat the odds, we are there for one another, and we come out on top.

Samantha, 30

Samantha, 30

Meet Samantha…

Being covered in blood and bruises was “normal,” but my boyfriend had beaten me to the point that I miscarried our baby.

Samantha, 30
Incarcerated: 1 year
Housed: La Vista Correctional Facility, Pueblo, Colorado

I was going to college for mortuary science when I met a guy. We had a very toxic relationship involving drugs and domestic violence. In February of 2013,  I woke up in my backyard in the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. Being covered in blood and bruises was “normal,” but my boyfriend had beaten me to the point that I miscarried our baby. A part of me was thankful that I wasn’t going to be stuck with him forever. After I recovered, I left. I got a restraining order. I moved to another town. I got a job and was doing fine until he showed up at my job and wouldn’t leave. Countless times he would be removed in handcuffs and eventually I was let go due to the unwanted attention it was bringing to the store.

I moved a couple more times and changed my number. I didn’t feel I was able to get a job since he was stalking me. I was in the kitchen at a friend’s house when he showed up and started throwing me around. I got free from his grasp and locked myself in the bathroom. I crawled out the window and ran down the street to the first car I saw. Driving was a 52 year old man. I asked for a ride anywhere. Here most 22 year old girls would be nervous getting in the car with a stranger, but I was willing to take the risk. I came to Colorado with him. He let me stay in a spare room, helped me get in contact with my parole officer and get my legal stuff taken care of. He brought me back to Oregon to do a jail sentence for absconding, then picked me up and came back to Colorado where he helped me get a job and get back on my feet. 

Vincent, 58

Vincent, 58

Meet Vincent…

My street name is “Sly,” not by gang or negative slang, but because I was caught, at the age of four, trying to scoop out peach cobbler from under the crust, like I saw my uncle do, and got busted by Grandma.

Vincent, 58
Incarcerated: 15 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison

My street name is “Sly,” not by gang or negative slang, but because I was caught, at the age of four, trying to scoop out peach cobbler from under the crust, like I saw my uncle do, and got busted by Grandma. She called me a “sly devil” and the name stuck. Now, I want to share my own grandfather moment: One day, I was sitting in my living room watching TV with three of my four grandchildren. I had made them a snack of graham crackers with peanut butter, an already peeled tangerine and a Gogurt tube. They were running in and out of the house, letting out the cool air from my air conditioner. I screamed, “Hey! Quit running in and out of the house! Stay outside!” In return, I received a high chorus from all three, “Okay, PaPa!” But then, the door opened up again and my five year old grandson jumped in my lap, and whispered, “Papa, this is my last time, okay?” and kissed me on my jaw. I can still smell the mix of tangerine and graham crackers. It was a pure smell of a loving trusting child who saw me as the alpha protector and he loved me. 

Mohamud, 24

Mohamud, 24

Meet Mohamud…

I can’t change my past decision or where I came from, but I change where I am going.

Incarcerated: 3 years
Housed: Northpoint Training Center, Burgin, Kentucky

I am a single father to a beautiful boy who means the world to me. I love him unconditionally.

My relationship with my son is unbearable, I can’t even explain how much I love and miss him every single day and night. Family means a lot to me, my son, my sister and brother who have been by my side since day one and we talk every weekend. My siblings and I share a strong relationship and are very close. The most important things I miss about being outside is my son, working, going to school and taking care of my family like any father and real men do. To me, all women are beautiful regardless of their height, weight, color, race, religion etc. I respect and love them all. While behind this wall, one thing I’d like to change is how I lived. I lived a double life and I got caught up in street life. I am thankful that I am the only person in my family that graduated college. I became a licensed medical technologist. Education is the key to success and with knowledge the sky’s the limit. I will keep educating myself and taking college courses. I try to be as happy as I can, smile, be positive and take it day by day. I hope to be able to go back to my family and never ever leave them again. I can’t change my past decision or where I came from but I change where I am going. God willing, I will make myself a better human, father and son.

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